WeAreHD.org - The Social Support Network for People Living with Huntington's Disease

Sometime about thirteen years ago, my mother’s brain began to shrink. The signs that something was wrong proliferated slowly, but as ominously as something out of a science-fiction movie. My mother became unaccountably restless and unable to concentrate. She complained constantly that Larry, my stepfather, didn’t take her out anywhere, that they never did anything—although she could no longer follow the conversation at a dinner party and said things that other people found incomprehensible. She tried going back to work in some of the little tourist shops where she lived, in Rockport, Massachusetts. My mother worked most of her adult life,...